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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



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30NGS 



KRONI 



JTahant, 



By A]^flIE E. JOHNSO]Sl, 



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DEDICATE THESE LITTLE SONGS AFFECTIONATELY 
TO MY CHILDREN. 



•^T^'- 



^^OCT 17 1892 ; 



PRESS OF G. H. & W. A. NICHOLS. 






COPYRIGHTED BY 

ANNIE E. JOHNSON, 
1892. 



The Bells o? llynn. 

AR, far and wide, across the sea, 
Farther than wild winds ever fluno: 
The cadence of their melody, 
A poet has their praises sung. 

In pleasant lands beyond the sea 
The magic of his song shall win 

From kindly hearts in stranger homes, 
Sweet praises for the bells of Lynn. 

To me how many thoughts they bring 

Of childhood's hours, its smiles and tears. 

Oh, never more such chimes may ring- 
As gladdened all those happy years ! 

We hear the cheerful bells at noon. 
And, closing the brief Winter's day, 

We, listening, wait, when "nine " at night 
Rings, clear and sweet, across the bay. 



But sweeter still, o'er summer seas, 
The distant music sinks and swells, 

Now lost 'mid ocean symphonies, 
Now like a peal of fairy bells. 

I see the gleaming lights shine clear, 
Across the bay, above the din 

Of stormy winds and waves, I hear 
The sweet chime of the bells of Lynn ! 




fl Snow Storm. 

H, dreary day of storm, the whirling snow 
Hides all the landscape ; on the bleak high hill 
The angry sweeping winds are never still, 

Straight over leagues of frozen seas they blow. 
Oh, for one breath of Spring ! 

So murmured one 
Beside me ; from my book, as from a dream, 
A Summer dream, I woke. Ne'er Summer sun 
Shone on a fairer world. Valley and stream, 
Blue, distant hills, a forest, centuries old. 

Rich with all lovely things that love the shade, 
Fair with the sunshine changing gloom to gold. 
Here, too, were maidens fair, knights brave and 
bold. 
And, happy with the happiest, from that spot 
We journeyed on to distant Camelot ! 



The Captive Queen. 



/^LONE, discrowned, forsaken, desolate, 

^i^ Oh, Queen who ruled, so late, the fairest isle 

That ever brightened in the Summer's smile, 
How art thou fallen from thy proud estate ! 
No willing subjects on thy bidding wait, 

Of all who served thee joyfully, erewhile : — 
A royal patience in thy mien appears, 

As, standing silent by the sullen sea, 
Thou questionest of all thy coming years, 

So wrapped about with gloom and mystery. 
Unheeding words of human praise or blame. 

Asking no love, save God's, to comfort thee, 
Lifting the tired brow, the fettered hand. 
Whose mute entreaty He will understand ! 



fl Quiet Liife. 



^J^HOU pitiest this dull life, thou who art 
^5^ dwelling 

In the fair city, 'mid the pomp of art, 
Learning, and wealth, where myriad voices swell- 
ing, 

Chide the poor dreamer for his idle heart. 

Thou pitiest this dull life, these pleasant hours, 
Apart from the great world, with the blue sky, 

The quiet loves of bird and tree and flower, 
The restless ocean ever sweeping by. 

The bright, glad waves, on which the sunshine 
glistens. 

Or the wild surge, with Winter tempests dark, 
The sullen boom for which the strained ear listens, 

As, fearful, fancy paints the stranded bark. 



Counting the white sails in the golden morning, 
As they come forth from clouds of soft blue mist, 

Watching the sea-birds flight, the dull land scorn- 
ing. 
Bidding my fancies wander where they list. 

Thus glides my life ; apart from the world's voices, 
Hither, in softened murmurs, comes their strife, 

'Mid kindred hearts my own grieves or rejoices ; 
Ah, pity thou no more this quiet life ! 




''pirst Llove is Best." 

C ^5!?-'^^^'^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^^^ " ^^^ maiden sang, 

A (Albeit she sang thro' gathering tears.) 
Not all the love my life hath won, 

Is half as sweet, is half as dear. 

As one love of a vanished year ; 
Too soon the fairy dream was done ! 

''First love is truest love," she sighed, 
As o'er the past her swift thoughts flew. 

Tomorrow wealth and power and pride 

Await me, as Lord Roland's bride — 

Ah, lonely life ; at Roland's side. 
To miss my love so brave and true ! 

My lost, lost love ! the maiden wept — 
With thee the hours went by so fast, 

No more my lips may speak of thee. 
Or of the love hid in the past. 

And yet — her song came brokenly, 
In sobbing- tones, "first love is last ! " 



Plea ?or the Poets- 

TN England's greenwood the sad nightingale, 

A Mavis and merle their melodies repeat. 

Songs that have power to stay the lingering feet 

Of some rapt poet in the twilight pale. 

Such songs heard Chaucer, and by stream and vale 
Shakespeare hath listened to their music sweet, 
Rising at first, broken and incomplete, 

As some sad singer doth her love bewail. 

In our new world, no nightingale doth sing, 
Yet its wide forests shall not tuneless be ; 

Dear are the songs the changing seasons bring. 
The welcome wood-note from each bush and tree. 

Nature's dear poets ! make the woodlands ring ! 
Not Shakespeare's self would chide your melody ! 



The F^cig and plower. 

VI/HE fairest sight in all the world, is our banner, 

^4< floatinor fj-ee ! 

The flag that gives, to all who come, home, friends 

and liberty. 
They crowd our shores, they throng our marts, of 

every clime and hue, 
The peoples of the elder world find refuge in the 

new ! 

Flag of the free ! O'er land and sea, forever may'st 
thou shine ! 

And in thy folds, with loyal love, an emblem- 
flower we twine. 

England's fair Rose, the Shamrock green. Thistle 
and Fleiir de lis 

May borrow splendor from thy rays, our Flower of 
Liberty ! 



Choose we the royal Sunflower, with its crown of 

shining gold ! 
The common, homely, wayside flower, beloved by 

young and old, 
No pale aesthetic blossom on the green earth 

lying low, 
It lifts its broad leaves fearlessly to all the winds 

that blow ! 

Gift of the glorious midsummer! 'neath its pro- 
tecting shade 

The chosen flowers of every land unseen may 
bloom and fade. 

England's fair Rose, the Shamrock green, Thistle 
and Fleur-de-lis, 

May borrow splendor from its rays, our Flower of 
Liberty ! 

It doth not hide its glowing face, from morn till 

day is done. 
Through cloud or storm, with steadfast gaze it 

followeth the sun. 
As warriors see, through battle flame, the bright 

flag waving high. 
And follow, wheresoe'er it shines, to death or 

victory ! 



Flag of the free ! O'er land and sea, forever may'st 

thou shine ! 
And in thy folds, with loyal love, an emblem 

flower we twine. 
Fair as thy bannered stars, will glow the petals, 

brave and bold, 
Of the tall and stately Sunflower, with its crown 

of shining gold ! 




;.^^L^. 



J^earer. 

T KNOW thee near, though thou hast passed 
A death's portal, 

Leaving me desolate, 
For the soul's love is like the soul, immortal — 

Patient, I wait. 

Because I feel that soon I must be nearer. 

The haven where thou art. 
Each day thy memory grows yet sweeter, dearer. 

And fills my heart. 

I feel thy unseen hands are laid, in blessing, 

Upon my head, tonight, 
I almost hear thy words, with kind caressing. 

And all is right. 

My Father! thou whose love wilt never leave me ; 

Love casts out fear. 
Thy presence is a shield, and naught can grieve me 

Since thou art near ! 



June. 



y [NDER the blossoming apple trees, 
111 Watching the swift wings come and go, 
With murmur of waves and the whispering breeze, 
Blending in melodies soft and low. 

Over my head rings a bird's clear song, 
My glad heart echoes its happy tune, 

" Chill Winter has saddened our lives too long. 
Earth is so lovely, and this is June!" 

All we have missed she hath brought again ! 

Robins build in the self-same tree, 
Violets bloom in the shaded lane. 

Columbines nod on the cliff by the sea. 

Giver of all things fair and sweet, 
Oh, how good is this world of thine! 

E'en in the blossoms that drop at our feet 
We read a lesson of love divine ! 

Changeless the gifts the Summers bring. 
Sunshine and blossom, flower and tree — 

Oh, in the world of Eternal Spring 

Will the love that I miss come unchanged to me? 



LiOSS. 

tYTHEN the just and gracious Master 
^^^ Gathers in His precious sheaves, 
Trembling, I must bring before him ^ 
Only faded leaves. 

Yet I strove, with joyful labor. 

Worthier gifts to bring, 
Loyally I would have woven 

Garlands for my King. 

Fain had filled life's fragrant censer 

Crowded to its brim, 
Fain had sung in worthier measure 

Of my love for Him. 

Oh, the hopes of life's glad morning. 

Oh, the priceless trust, 
In rich measure glorifying 

Ashes, tears and dust. 



Naught but leaves and faded garlands 
Doth my harvest yield. ' 

Grieving, stand I 'mid the reapers, 
Gleaning in the field. 

Grieving o'er my useless labor, 

All my gold but dross ; 
All my life-long labor wasted — 
Will He count it loss ? 



All Night the Storm Swept By. 

/JJLL night the storm swept by unceasingly — 
^-*- Still the surf thunders on the yielding sand, 
Still the vexed heart of the unquiet sea 

In stormy throbbings shakes the solid land. 
Still rage the wild winds in their swift career ! -- 

Oh, haunting voices of the sky and sea, 
Ye bring but images of dread and fear ; 

Of lonely exiles, pacing foreign strands, 
Of shipwrecked sailors, when no help is near, 

Of stately ships, that sailed with song and cheer, 
But never reached a port in distant lands, 

Of sad Columbus, bearing home his chains, 
With all his grief, all his sad memories, 

Mocked by the chiding of the pitiless seas ! 



At Icing's Gl^apel. 

Boston, Jan. 28, 1SS9. 

HY from the crowded street 
Are stayed these hurrying feet ? 
In the Chapel, stately and old, 
Why gather today the throng? 

A poet's heart is cold, 
A glorious king of song ! 

Soft music, swelling clear, 
Breaks the solemn stillness here; 
In the faintly-shadowed light 
Shine fair roses, red and white; 
Lilies and laurel leaves 

A delicate fragrance shed, 
While many a spirit grieves 

For Brownino-, dead. 



To give him honor due 
Meet kindly hearts and true. 
These who have loved his song, 
So hopeful, glad and strong, 

(Read, haply, now through tears), 
Honor the generous thought 
In eloquent measure wrought, — 

In this they are his peers ! 

Poet ! whose laurelled head 
Rests in the Abbey's gloom. 
Where England's royal dead 
Are grandly sepulchered, 

And Thou, whose simple tomb 
Is 'neath Italian skies. 

Where the white roses bloom, 
Here, by the western sea, 
Our land, in its love for ye. 
Is England, — Italy ! 



Twilight Song. 

AITING in the twilight, 
Still as still can be, 
Soon the weary footsteps 
Will come home to me. 

Now the ruddy sunset 

Flushes all the sky, 
Tired feet turn homeward, 

Soon they will be nigh. 

Brighten up the fire, 

Oh ! how sad t'would be 

If there were no footsteps 
Coming home to me. 



Psycl^e. 



POOR caged bird, that from thy narrow prison 
Art gazing upward to the unclouded skies 
And envying each swift pinion that hath risen, 

How vainly strives thy fettered wing to rise ! 
The golden sunshine is a wasted boon. 

Its mocking glory cannot gladden thee; 
The midnight pales, and the stars fade too soon, 

Dearer than day the dream of night must be ! 
For then no fetters bind the restless wing. 

No cloud the sunny skies of life o'ercast, 
Yet, joy for thee I death a release shall bring, 

And thou, life's dreary prison-hours past. 
Soaring above thy cell, regain the sky at last ! 



A Tribute. 

G. W. K. 

|EAR FRIEND, thy sweet song came to me 
As comes a wave, far-swept and grand. 
That gathers strength and power afar 
To break in music on the sand. 

The shining sands receive the tide 
In sparkling curves, or dazzling rain. 

And thus, in many a waiting heart 
Thy treasured words shall sink again ! 



0\^, Words o? Trust?ul Liove. 

"God's in his heaven ; all's right with the world." 

— BroTviibig^ s ^^ Pippa Passes.^^ 

H, words of trustful love ! go forth, like balm 
To the sick heart of this unfaithful world. 
I hear your music, and my soul grows calm 
And over me a banner seems unfurled, 
Beneath whose shelter, nothing evil dare 
Come near to vex the life, God keepeth in his care. 



G. F 



April, 18S4. 

§ GALLERY rich with pictures; 
,„ From the walls 

Through golden mist, a world of beauty shines. 
Summer is here, with flowers and clustering vines, 
Here are fair forms and faces. O'er them falls 
A dreamy splendor, by thine Art divine 
Still kept immortal ! 

What a joy was thine, 
Thus to mock Nature in her sweetest moods, 
By river, wood, and ocean solitudes ! 
In faithful, loving study, thou of her 
Hast been a patient, true interpreter. 
Alas, the fame thou wert so slow to claim 
Too late is thine — And friends who love thee best 
Gather today, to place upon thy breast 
Love's token flowers ; and the world gives thee fame I 



]V[c) |\^ other. 



yjTHE earth, the beautiful, beloved earth 
Np Is still the same; glad faces come and go 
Within our dwelling; bright the fire-lit hearth, 
Friends are around us. 

Through all this, I know 
A need of thee, an achino- sense of loss. 
In silent grief my heart must bear its cross, 
But, like the star that riseth with the dawn, 
O'er my soul's darkness shines a hope supreme 
To cheer its ceaseless longing. 

Thou art gone 
Before me, O, my mother ! Like a dream, 
A weary heart-ache, and a homesick pain 
These years have been, but patiently I wait, 
Trusting that I shall see thy face again 
When death for me unlocks the golden gate! 



Voices o? the StornQ. 



pfOW wails the stormy wind tonight ! 
^^ How moans the wild and wintry sea! 
The tempest, raging in its might, 
Seems like a voice that chideth me. 

Thou fearful soul, (it seems to say). 

That shrinketh from the storm and strife, 

Wake from thine idle dreams, away, 
And seek some noble part in life ! 

Make thee some aim, some hope, whose light 
May lure thee from thy rest afar, 

The world lies dim around thee, bright 
Above, shines Duty's guiding star ! 

How faint thy wish, how weak thy will. 

Oh, learn thou power and strength from me. 
Not when my waves are calm and still 

Can their tones thrill and waken thee ! 



Dreaming 'mid sunshine, flowers and balm, 
In silence sleeps the slothful will, 

But not in hours of slumbrous calm 

Are heard the tones that wake and thrill. 

Oh, Voice of Strength ! my soul replies, 
Thou fillest me with vague affright. 

Like a lost lonely child, that cries. 
Bewildered, in the storm and night. 

I cannot tread the lonely way, 

My path must be where sunshine lies, 

My song shall greet the joyous day 
And light of sweet unclouded eyes ! — 

Wild voices of the stormy night ! 

Lost and beloved voices seem 
Floating and mingling with your tones, 

Until I wake, as from a dream, 

And cry, " Your love hath never died ! " 
Oh, souls so loving, strong and true, 

I follow you, whate'er betide. 
Where duty bids to dare and do ! 



Though it should prove a lonely way, 
Beneath unsmiling, clouded skies, 

A trusting heart can cheer each day 
With glad self-sacrifice ! — 

And now, oh, winds and stormy seas ! 

To the wild anthem ye have made. 
My soul responds with joy and awe 

And is no more afraid ! 






"Portuguese Men of War." 

E watched the morning break. Our ship 
Sailed by the Western Isles. 
Above that calm and sunny sea 
How fair the morning smiles ! 

"Come here," the Captain said, "and see 

Yon fairy fleet, afloat, 
See how each venturous mariner 

Guideth his tiny boat." 

Far out upon the sparkling waves, 

Lit by the sunshine fair, 
A fleet of rainbow-tinted sails 

Shone 'round us everywhere. 

He said — " The fairy men o' war ! 

See how they catch the breeze. 
And never sailed a fairer fleet 

Upon the summer seas !" 



''And when the waves grow rough and chill, 

Then, best of all," he said, 
" They sink to calmer depths, nor fear 

The tempest overhead." 

Sail on, oh, little mariners ! 

Blithe voyagers are ye, 
Secure ye sail, nor dread the gale 

That strews with wreck the sea ! 



^^±3 



^(^^^ 



'Mii?e is so Dear." 

''And art thou then 
So much in love with life, the very life 
That makes theewretched ? " 

Furrowed brow and faltering footstep, 

Weary frame and weary heart ; 
Do ye tire of your burdens, 

Are ye longing to depart ? 
Wherefore to life's faded branches 

Cling the leaflets, dim and sere ? — 
Still I hear the low voice falter, 

"I would linger, life is dear." 

Eager step and hopeful bearing, 

Flashing eye and spirit proud, 
In life's battle bold and daring. 

Winning homage from the crowd, 
Of the strife dost weary never. 

Eagle heart, untamed by fear ? 
Still that deep tone, murmuring ever, 

"Glory waits me, life is dear!" 



Restless heart, forever sighing 

For the unattainecl and far, 
There's a thought that still undying 

Guides thee like an evil star ; 
Fettered heart, and fearless spirit ! 

Break the bonds that keep ye here ! 
Still that earnest tone, replying, 

'' Fame will cheer me, life is dear ! " 

True and faithful spirit, kneeling 

With the burden of thy woe, 
To thy God alone revealing 

Grief the cold world may not know. 
Tell me, sad one, wherefore linger 

In a world to thee so drear ? 
''There is hope still in the future, 

God is with me, life is dear ! " 

Art thou not of life aweary, 

Thou upon a bed of pain, 
Years of suffering are before thee, 

Woulds't thou break the wearying chain ? 
Faint and low the broken murmur. 

Sad and quick the starting tear — 
*' One true heart still watches by me. 

Love is left me, life is dear!" 



Baby's Picture. 

^^ J5)EH0LD the gracious lady of my love 

A^ Who guides my life, although enthroned 
above." 
So Dante spoke, and reverently withdrew 
The veil that hid her beauteous face from view. 

Unlike his face, so sad and so severe, 
One smiles upon us, from the picture here. 

See Baby, in her gentle sovereignty, 
Uplifted, smiling, from her father's knee, 

How fair she is, so lightly poised above ! — 
Seems he not saying, looking on the grace, 
And the rare beauty of her 'witching face, 

" Behold the little lady of my love ! " 

Thus may she ever live, secure from harm. 
Sheltered within her heavenly Father's arm ! 



(Jesus Wept. 



^H, not the memory of his mightiest deeds 
Within its hoHest shrine my heart hath kept, 
For me no dearer record is within 

This sacred ''book of books" than ''Jesus ivept.'' 
He wept for earthly grief, he wept with her, 
The desolate mourner at the sepulchre. 
Oh, how my soul, in love and sorrow, cries 

To Him, earth's holiest and its humblest one ! 
How gladly offers, for a sacrifice. 

The broken heart those blessed words have won ! 
How doth it long of all its love to tell 
For him, whose tears for earthly sorrows fell ! 
But most it blesseth him whene'er are shed 
Grief's bitterest tears — *' he wept beside the dead !" 



Trust Thou in God." 



•l^RUST thou in God, and do not fear, 
^J^ Trust thou in Him, whate'er betide 
Though unknown danger may be near. 
His arm of strength shall be thy guide. 



Trembler, that droops and fears and dies, 
Rest on that mighty arm for aid ! 

Be strong, weak thing of fears and sighs, 
Trust thou His love, nor be afraid ! 

Wait not till youth and love are gone, 
Till life grows sad, and sere and dim ; 

Wait not till age comes sadly on 
To give a broken heart to him. 

Come to him now ! thy morn is fair. 
Come and his gracious hand shall be 

Thy shield from earthly wile and snare, 
Trust thou the God who loveth thee ! 



Ballad. 



^OU'VE chosen anither, Mary mine, 
You've chosen anither than me. 
How could you forget the dear lang syne 
And the love sae leal to thee ! 

I ken to a cauld, cauld stranger-heart, 
You gae from a bosom true, 
And I must see the auld love pairt, 
The auld love pairt for the new ! 

Yon rose, within her garden bower 

Fu' mony an eye may see, 
But on the lanely mountain-side 

The daisy bloomed for me. 

Hearts are not sold, wi' gear and gold. 
Thro' lang and lanely years. 

You may regret my slighted love 
Wi' unavailing tears. 



The night is mirk and cauld, Mary, 

Nae star blinks frae above. 
'Tis like my changed, sad life, Mary, 

Without thy smile of love. 

Be charms more rare, of rich and fair. 

By other lips caressed. 
Wad but my Scottish daisy bloom 

Or fade upon my breast. 

But you've chosen anither, Mary mine. 
You've chosen anither than me. 

Oh, can you forget the dear lang syne 
And the love so leal to thee.? 




Under JVIarclping Orders.' 

(letter.) 

Vj/HEY are going forth to battle, 
NE^ God shield them every one ! 
The sister for the brother prays, 
The mother for her son. 

''The father of these little ones, 

Oh God, in mercy spare." 
Thus faltereth the waiting heart 

That has no help but prayer. 

'' We are under marching orders^' 
We know that this must be. 

We know some noble hearts may fall 
Ere the hour of victory. 

For them, the danger and the strife. 
And the hour so full of fate, 

For us, the anguish of our fears. 
To hope, to pray, to wait. 

They are marching forth to battle, 
God shield them every one ; 

The sister for the brother prays. 
The mother for her son ! 



U. G.To His Mother. 



mother of the dead ! be comforted, 
f For in thy grief how many bear a part. 
Not thine alone the brave and loyal heart 
A nation numbers with her glorious dead ! 
That son so loved, with many an honored name 
Passed on : A nation's love shall guard his fame, 
Earth shall hold tenderly her sacred trust, 
And guard, with jealous care, a hero's dust. 
Alas, for thee, /as Mother, whose dear hand 
Hath guided him to manhood, tenderly ; 
Thou dids't not think above his grave to stand. 
His mute face darkening the world to thee. 
May He who gave and took again, still bless, 
Thy Savior will not leave thee comfortless ! 



Tlpe prigate Cumberland. 



HE spirit of our Fathers is not dead, 
But risen from their ashes, walks abroad. 
It lingers where heroic blood is shed, 
• The brothers' blood that crieth unto God. 
Never were braver deeds than they have done. 
The Fathers of our land. 

And yet with pride 
In these late days we point unto their sons. 
Who in the same great cause have nobly died. 
An emblem of the spirit of these days, 
Our flag still floats from siuikcii Cumberland ! 
With desperate courage, death on every hand. 
They poured a broadside from the sinking deck, 
Till at the last, with colors proudly flying. 
They sank, in death, the treacherous foe defying ! 



S. D. P. 



I^E his name writ with the heroic dead, 
JL^ They who went forth to struggle and to die. 
Names that shall be forever treasured 
While beats a heart for truth and liberty ! 
No tears for thee, thou brave and gentle-hearted ! 
Why should we grieve that thy free soul hath risen 
Above the confines of its earthly prison ? 
And yet, alas, for love that hath departed ! 
Let the remembrance of each gracious deed 
Uphold the hearts his memory that cherish ; 
With blessings of the freedmen who in need, 
Found him a helper and a friend indeed. 
These are the treasures that shall never perish, 
But bless, with healing power, the hearts that 
bleed. 



In JVLenrporianQ, 



strong and fearless soul ! Upon the way 
J That thou hast gone our hearts do follow 
thee! 
Silence for us, and gloom and mystery — 
For thee the brightness of unclouded day ! 
What vision cometh now to those clear eyes ? 
Eyes clear as childhood's in its innocence, 
Yet keen to pierce the veil where error lies ! 
Thine was the gift of song ; and eloquence 
To plead for all things that were true and right. 
Thy charities made many a hearthstone bright. 
O, friend ; who dids't not fear alone to tread 
The unknown way, for thee no sad farewell ! 
In sorrowing hearts thy memory long shall dwell 
And earth be sadder because thou art dead. 



(RONDEAU.) 

a RAINY day ; we search the dull sky through 
In vain, to find one sunny break of blue ; 
I welcome the still hour, the softened light ; 
A quiet day, we read, or rest, or write. 
The sky wraps all things in its leaden hue. 

Nor distant sea, nor nearer shore we view, 
Dear heart ; with pleasant talk, with fancies new. 
Your cheerful presence maketh glad and bright 

A rainy day. 

Good-bye to grief and all her gloomy crew. 
For in your merry eyes, so sweet and true, 
Ever abides a laughter-loving sprite 
Whose spells have power to banish sorrow quite ; 
And I — I only wish to share with you 

A rainy day. 



Tlr^e Gonoing StornQ. 

TTYE said, as the night closed round us, how 
vA/ lonely the Winter will be ! 

Only the cry of the homeless wind, and the moan 

of the treacherous sea ; 
Only the quiet village, and the silent, deserted 

street. 
Oh, for the cheerful city, and the hurry of busy 

feet! 

Pacing the sheltered veranda, shielded from wind 

and rain, 
A restless, lonely longing fills the soul with a 

nameless pain ; 
We hear the gale in the tree-tops, the surf-beat on 

the sands. 
But we miss the kindly voices, and the clasp of 

friendly hands. 



But see, through the waving branches shines the 

beacon's crimson star ! 
O, lonely watchers, we greet you, and welcome 

your light from afar ; 
Ye dwell alone on the desolate Rock, to guard that 

steady light. 
And ye shame the coward heart that shrinks from 

the coming storm tonight ! 







:^.. 






Pollci. 

(Only Four.) 

(J^AINTY little maiden, 
'^ Fair she is, and sweet, 
From her silken tresses 
To her tiny feet. 

Could you see her coming, 
Always glad and bright, 

Like a bee, low-humming 
In her heart's delight. 

With her restless motions, 
Like an uncaged bird, 

You would love the darling 
Ere she spoke a word. 

But today — oh, wonder! 

Polly sits alone. 
And her smiling patience 

Would touch a heart of stone. 



"• Are you resting, Polly, 
Tired of your play ? " — 

** We are playing circus," 
They've all gone away, 

" But I hear their voices 
By the garden fence. 

We are playing circus, 
I'm tJie audience ! " 




]V[arguerite. 

(Keeping the Tryst.) 

fOMETHING around me tells of sudden 
change, 
My daily duties seem 
Vague and unreal, and life itself is strange, 
I walk as in a dream. 

My soul is lifted in a world of space, 

Distance and time are not. 
Ever I dream of one beloved face, 

And all else is forgot. 

Dear, since we parted at my cottage door. 

How have I longed to see 
The happy, happy hour that should restore 

My love again to me. 



The hour is here when we once more shall meet, 

When I shall hear thy tone, 
And my heart hushes its impatient beat, 



Waiting to greet its own. 



At last — at last ! oh, love, oh true and dear! 

Hushed pulse, and bended head, 
Silently greet the Presence waiting here — 

I, living — and thou, dead ! 




A Gl^ild's Thought. 

(rondel.) 

jf N the spring-time bright, when the earth was 
A clad 

In beauty, and blossoms were all astir. 
When their sweetest notes the songsters had 

To welcome the joys that returned with her. 

Near a new-made mound two mourners were — 
A father, who came with his little lad. — 
In the spring-time bright, when the earth was clad 

In beauty, and blossoms were all astir. 

To comfort the heart so grieved and sad. 
Said the child, with love that could not err, 
" The birds sing to make the dead folks glad,'" 
And sweet as their music his sweet words were, 
In the spring-time bright, when the earth was clad 
In beauty, and blossoms were all astir. 



Old Songs 



"Sing to me 
Old songs, the precious music of the heart." 

^ING not the new, but I would hear thee breathe 
^& Those sad, yet sweet, old melodies again. 
They bring me back my childhood days, I weave 
Its dreams anew, the beautiful — the vain ! 

They throng around me. Once again 1 see 
The lovely Ladye and her own true Knight ; 

I see the tourney, and the battle-field. 

Tinged by romance all golden-hued and bright. 

Sweetly and tenderly, as if a voice 

Won back the wild heart to its early truth, 

Come these dear memories, till my eyes are dim 
And my heart gladdened with the dreams of 
youth. 

Tis strange ; we listen to those sweet old songs, 
The plaintive music-tones of vanished years, 

Until the heart is filled with childhood's faith, 
And the drooped eyelids warm with unshed 
tears. 



A?ter tl^e Stornr^. 

(A picture by T. Clark Oliver.) 

fENEATH an opal-tinted sky, 
Lighted by sunset's radiant gleams, 
Where the rich clouds reflected lie, 
A ship is drifting through my dreams. 

Oh, marvel of the Artist's skill! 

The sunset sky — the placid sea, 
And, haunting all our fancies still. 

The wrecked ship drifting helplessly. 

We see the worn and shattered wreck 
With mast, and helm, and anchor gone, 

And think of those who trod her deck 
An hour before the storm came on ! 



We know that sad eyes watch for her, 
That fond hopes followed in her track ; 

The ocean's lonely wanderer, 

And none shall bring her safely back 1 

Thus in mid-ocean drifting on, 

In morning glow, in evening dreams, 

With mast, and helm and anchor gone, 
A ship is drifting through my dreams ! 



_^ 




Uncinswered Questionings 

aLL the pathos that is hidden 
In the simplest Uves, we know. 
For our grieved souls, sorely chidden, 

Question sadly, as we go 
Through the sad and lonely way 
They trod, when with us, yesterday; 
Question sadly, if dear faces, 
Missed so long from our embraces, 
Ever, with their unseen eyes, 
Look upon us from the skies 
With a tender, pitying gaze. 
Marking all our anguished tears, 
Pitying all our lonely sighs ; 
But no whisper e'er betrays 
Answer to our hopes and fears ! 



Llife Is So Dim." 



elFE is so dim, so changed to me, 
Now thou art gone, 
And dreaming thro' its mazes, wearily 
I wander on. 

Longing in vain, to fondly clasp 

Thy pale, cold hand, — 
As if thou wert not dwelling far from me, 

In the unseen land. 

Star-like, above this dreary scene 

Thy love doth shine, 
Let life pass on, no cloud can come between 

Thy soul and mine ! 



A StornQcj Supset. 



fHE short, sad Winter day is done, 
The winds have sobbed themselves to rest 
And brightly o'er the village spire 
The sunset kindles in the west. 

See what a glory tinges now 

The edges of yon crimson cloud, 
A moment since the dull grey sea 

Was darkened by its folding shroud. 

Thus in our souls, O Light Divine, 
Shine, and illume the darkness there ; 

And may some heavenly hope be born 
From grief and sorrow and despair ! 



Ilove, and panae. 

t HEAR two voices. Sweet is thine, that comes 
A Like a bird singing at the close of day 
'Mid the rich gloom of leaves, its parting lay, 
Bringing a thought of calm and happy homes. 
Where peace and love the humblest heart may 

claim, 
Unvexed by haunting dreams of power or fame. — 
Be hushed, thou sterner voice that would enthrall. 
Thy lightest whisper swayeth oft' the will 
That answers tremblingly thy mystic call, 
As music doth a lyre's unconscious thrill : — 
Sweet bird of love ! within thy bower, alone, 
Thou singest, while the shadows round thee fall. 
Ah, who would turn from thee to catch the tone, 
Whose magic o'er my heart its spell of power had 

thrown ? 



AnQbition. 



false Ambition ! fain would I uncrown 

y thee! 

Thou woulds't usurp the kingdom of my heart. 
A dearer power than thine long since hath won me, 
For thee, life's better aims shall not depart. 
Better the humblest life, the humblest loving, 
So God be with us, in our lonely way. 
Than Fame's proud voice, with the world's voice 

approving 
The name whose echo lasteth but a day — 
Oh, false and mocking traitor! not to me, 
Not to my heart (a woman's heart) shall come 
The honeyed whisper, full of treachery. 
That lures a quiet spirit from its home. 
The world is wide, but near, oh, ever near. 
The home that love alone hath power to bless and 

cheer. 



Via Crucis. 



I^EVERMORE distrust of thee, 
ife My God, my God! 
Though through afflictions bitter waves 

My feet have trod, 
And all my earthly idols lie 
Beneath the sod. 

My trusting soul shall rise to Thee 

On wings of prayer, 
Knowing Thy love, I cannot know 

Aught of despair. 
Dear Lord ; my living and my dead 

Are both Thy care ! 



Tl^e Smn Went Down. 



^!^HE sun went down, curtained right royally 
\f With pomp of crimson, gold and purple sheen, 
And now, low-sobbing winds and stormy sky 
Herald the coming of night's sober Queen. 

I listen to the night-wind. Rising and falling, 
Moaning and sorrowing, it talks to me. 

And from far-severed shores the waves are calling — 
Why at such hour comes a thought of thee .'* 

Why, oh, thou summer-friend ? Not now is ringing 
Joy's skylark song, as in life's morning hours, 

Now from my lip hath died the voice of singing, 
And from my brow its crown of festal flowers. 

Yet, 'twixt thy soul and mine some bond remaineth. 
And in this hour of outward storm and strife 

I love to think the sound thine ear enchaineth, 
And not so lonely seems this lonely life. 



Still list I to the night-wind — rising, falling, 
Moaning and sorrowing, it talks with me, 

While from far-severed shores the waves are 
calling — 
Why, at such hour, comes a thought of thee? 




''When the Snow Connes Dowr;>." 



E AH ANT is fair in the summer days, 
Wrapped in a veil of silvery haze, 
When the sweet south wind around her plays. 

The small waves melt on the golden sand. 
Beauty and fragrance on either hand. 
We seem to tread an enchanted land. 

Or, clad in her Autumn splendors rare, 
How lovely she is, how calm and fair 
In the royal garments she loves to wear. 

Like a flashing banner each stately tree, 
Like an opal, the tints of sky and sea, 
Thus she waits for the Winter, silently. 

For too soon the wintry tempests reach 
O'er the level stretch of the lonely beach, 
Lonely, beyond all power of speech. — 



Yonder the bleak and silent land, 

Firm-set and grim its barriers stand, 

One lone Rock guarding sea and strand. — 

But when, at last, the snow comes down. 
Hiding the hills so bare and brown. 
Hiding the busy, distant town — 

It shrouds us in its robe of white, 
We cannot see the beacon's light — 
The world is blotted from our sight. 

From the stormy North the wild winds blow. 
We almost fancy the falling snow 
Will hide forever the earth we know. 

The winds and waves sing it o'er and o'er, 

** Fain would we sever ye, evermore 

From kindly hearts on each hidden shore." 

In the night, with its peril and mystery. 

We hear a sound like a startled cry 

As the great ships pass in the darkness by. 



Oh, but to see the beacon's light, 

To cheer the gloom of this stormy night, 

And guide them on their way aright ! 

Oh, but to hear, through the tempest's din. 
The clear, sweet chime of the bells of Lynn, 
That the ships may safely their harbor win ! 

Hiding the hills so bare and brown, 

Hiding the busy, distant town, 

How dreary it is when the snow comes down ! 




The ]V[irage. 



"p^ALF-SEEN, in glimpses bright and strange, 
^/^ O'er the hushed summer sea, 
A spectral ship sails up the bay, 
We watch her win her onward way ; 
Fair as a dream is she. 

She nears yon shadowy cliff, yet on 

Sails she unto the land. 
We know that ship — one summer day 
They cheered her, as she sailed away. 

Bound for a distant land. 

Hope, love, and joy; these are but words, 

Oh, dreaming youth ! to thee. 
But yon fair ship, whose parting cheer, 
Seems e'en now ringing in my ear, 

She bore them all from me ! 



Her name unspoken — if she sank 

Beside some coral reef, 
If silently, on stormless sea 
My brave boy said a prayer for me, 

That God might soothe my grief. 

Or if, in hour of deadly strife, 

The first where danger led, 
He perished — vain was love's fond prayer! 
But true hearts perish everywhere, 

Peace to the noble dead ! 



A glory rests upon their names, 

And loyal hearts enshrine 
Their gallant deeds, but still the waves 
Roll on above their unknown graves. 

Many bear griefs like mine ! 

A blessing on the stricken hearts. 

Who wait and watch in vain. 
To see, unharmed by wave and storm, 
Some stately ship's remembered form 
Come sailing o'er the main ! 



But the fair vision fades, the mist 

Rolls back upon the sea, 
The phantom ship has vanished, yet 
A mournful memory and regret 

Remaineth unto me ! 



^-<^^T^ 



Sunset. 



N royal pomp the day-god dies, 
'Mid purple pageantry, 
See how the burning glory lies 
Mirrored upon the sea. 

Across the bay, across the bay, 

The City shines afar, 
Where, on yon tapering spire, the cross 

Is glittering, like a star. 

See, in the charmed and lingering light 

A laggard sail glides by, 
And the sudden blaze of the beacon-lamps 

Flash brightly on the eye. 

And thus we watch the day's decline, 

Each summer day that dies, 
And find no picture half as fair 

As the changeful summer skies. 



( i 



Dorottpcj." 



(rhymed sestina.) 

//"OID the winds speak of me where I have 

M dwelt, 
Bid the stream's voice, of all my soul hath felt, 
A thought restore." 

In twilight land, where sleep nor waking is, 
(A mystic world, from common life apart,) 
Some presence, from a fairer world than this, 
Seemed to approach, and fill with joy my heart. 
Saying, "at thine unspoken wish I come, 
Speak thou for my poor lips so cold and dumb." 

Aye, for thy sake, my lips shall not be dumb 
Oh, fairest face, where such strange beauty is. 
I welcome thee, bright vision, thou hast come 
To dwell forever in my soul apart. 
Do thou but grant unto my waiting heart 
The grace of one more hour as sweet as this ! 



Smiling, she said, I came to thee for this. 
No more in lonely silence, cold and dumb 
I dwell, my life shall be within thy heart, 
Entwined with thine, renewed my being is. 
And thou, no longer shalt thou dwell apart, 
For at thy lightest bidding I will come. 

The voices of the waves that go and come. 

The winds that blow from other shores to this, 

I knew and loved them, for I dwell apart 

From the far world — my heart was sad and dumb. 

And in such solitude no joyance is. 

From my own sorrow, I have read thy heart. 



As I recall my home, the simple heart 
Of my lost childhood unto me doth come. 
Here grew the willows — yon the meadow is — 
My sheltering forest fairer was than this. 
Where glad birds sang. Silent to me, and dumb 
All happy sounds, from life and love apart. 



Yon sandy cove, where oft I mused apart, 

The beach, so dear to childhood's careless heart. 

Still bear my name. Though I am still and dumb 

Oh, let these speak of me to all who come. 

No earthly haunt so fair and dear as this. 

I go, for thee alone mine errand is ! 

Oh, silent heart, where silence only is ! 
Here, by the sea, I wait for thee apart — 
To cheer the or]oom of this sad hour, come ! 



Note. Dorothy, youngest daughter of James Mills, who was 
one of the earliest inhabitants of Nahant. A cove and beach 
still bear her name. See Letvis' History of Lynn. 






"His Will." 

TT is His will. I know not why, 
A Yet, oh, my Father, it is well. 
I know in mercy, not in wrath 

This shadow o'er my glad life fell. 
I strive to break a viewless band, 

I strive to soar on tireless wing. 
But my heart wears the heaviest chain 

When most from earth it tries to spring. 

Bright visions, thronging heart and brain, 

Wild hopes a breath may make or mar. 
Aspirings that o'ersweep the grave, 

And love, whose light is from afar. 
Ye cannot break this hated chain. 

On eager wings ye may not soar, 
Yet oft we whisper, that ye fain 

Would dwell 'mid care and grief no more. 



I cannot struggle with the power 

Whose fetters are around me thrown, 
But in the gloom of this sad hour 

Father ! I seek Thy face alone ! 
No strength to pray, or weep, or moan, 

I utter low, '' It is His will, 
His will be done," and all is well. 

Oh, soul unreconciled ! be still — 

Fate binds thee with an iron chain, 

On wings of light thou may'st not rise. 
Till death unlocks the prison-bar. 

And the freed spirit seeks the skies : 
I will not struggle with the power 

Whose fetters are around me thrown. 
But in this saddest, dreariest hour, 

I lean on His right arm alone ! 



Seeking Yiim Sorrowing. 



T SOUGHT, unknowing what I sought, 
A For rest, for peace, for happiness. 
The vague, sweet dreams that youth had brought, 
Had ceased to cheer, had failed to bless. 

The golden glory of romance, 

Faded, a false, bewildering light — 
I saw its mocking meteors dance 

Athwart the darkness of my night. 

Life flung her garlands at my feet. 
Faded and scentless, there they lay. 

Death beckoned; calm, and fair, and sweet 
He wooed me from my grief away. 

And earthly love, love born of dust. 
Had failed th' immortal soul to buy. 

With all its wealth of hope and trust 
A more than royal argosy ! 



Weeping, I said — there is no light 
No hope to guide my soul afar, 

When, glimmering softly through my night 
Arose the bright, the morning star ! 

Oh, heart of love ! oh, crucified ! 

Oh, rock of strength ! in thee how blest, 
How full of peace, of hope, and joy 

The trusting heart doth sweetly rest ! 

Oh, hope divine ! oh, joy complete ! 

While thou art mine no fate can frown. 
Thorns shall be roses 'neath my feet 

Because He wore them for a crown ! 






Ttpe iJnseen ]4onrpe. 

JITHERE is that unseen home, that world of 
yJJ rest, 

To which thou call'st thy wearied children, Earth ? 
We see them pass to thee, their pale hands pressed 
Above each silent heart. No tone of mirth, 
No word of love, no whisper of farewell 
Breathes from their pallid lips, who go with thee 
to dwell. 

IVit/i thee, oh, Earth 1 that which thou cans't not 

keep. 
The soul that speeds beyond this narrow dome, 
How doth it wake from its mysterious sleep, 
Free and unfettered in a lovelier home } 
Yet, pines it not, in that far world of bliss, 
For the sweet, earthly love, that gladdened it in 

this .? 



And the far wanderers to those unknown skies - 
How shall we meet them, as we love them now ; 
With the same smile in their immortal eyes, 
With the same light on each remembered brow ? 
Thus let us dream, with glad and fearl'ess trust. 
In the undying Love which glorifies our dust ! 



'' }iere where the cli??-fIowers." 



p^ERE where the cliff-flowers are swinging and 
^^ clinging 

In the light breeze that just ruffles the sea 
Comes music, whose tones are so airily ringing, 

Joyous the measure, and free, 
Rising and falling, like spirit-tones calling, 

This it seems saying to me : 

Oh, be thou glad with the joy of the morning! 

Glad with the flower and bee, 
What though youth waneth, if friendship re- 
maineth, 

God hath been orracious to thee ! 



&' 



Youth must pass by, with its joy and its grieving, 

Give it no sigh of regret, 
Dearer the calm and the quiet of evening, 

Szveeter it is to forget. 



Sing of the Aloe, whose patient heart holdeth 

In silence, and darkness, and tears, 
The germ of a hope, till at last it unfoldeth, 

A blossom, whose growth is of years ! 

O'er the blue ocean, with swift, gliding motion, 
White sails are coming, like ghosts, from afar, 

Now brightly glancing o'er waves that are dancing, 
Suddenly shineth the twilight's first star. 

Still on my ear a gay measure is ringing — 
Musical murmurs, from over the sea. 

Haunting me, mocking me, are syrens singing, 
Do they stretch eager hands, beckoning to me 



Still where the cliff-flowers are clinging and 
swinging. 

In the Ught breeze that just ruffles the sea, 
Comes Music, whose tones are so airily ringing, 

Music borne over the sea ! 
Rising and falling, like spirit-tones calling, 

Sweetly it cometh to me. 



pound Drowned. 



(^j^EAD — and so young and fair! 

'^ Her glossy, golden hair 

Is wet and heavy with the salt sea spray. 

Her blue eyes are unclosed to the sweet day 

That smiles in her wan face; 

The grief was heavy, life refused to keep — 

Yet, better had she fallen to her rest 

A sinless infant on the mother's breast 

Than to be cradled in this fearful sleep ! 

Alas, for thee, poor heart ! 
In the wide world one only rest, 
Beneath the sky one only nest 
The weary pinion sought. 
But chill winds blew to earth that nest 
And blew on thine unsheltered breast. 



A stronger terror than of death 

Came on, and checked thy laboring breast, 

Another chill than of the storm 

Thrilled thro' thy trembling, shrinking form. 

Mocked, grieved, deserted, desolate. 

Poor heart, a step-child thou of fate ! 

But from a night of terror breaks the morn, 

Placid, and sweet, and mild. 
Oh, from thy night so hopeless and forlorn. 

Hath such a morning smiled ? 
For unto thee may come those words from heaven 
She hath loved much, much is to her forgiven ! 






Jane Ptoses. 

XN memory shines a picture fair, 
A A cloudless sky of June. 
The leaves, and whispering waters near 
Singing a pleasant tune. 

Oh, day of June ! thou shalt not fade, 

For memory keeps apart 
A fair, sweet face, whose presence made 

A summer in my heart. 

Bright roses, with their dainty grace 

The garden walk o'erspread, 
She bent o'er them her lovely face, 

''How sweet they are," she said. 

But love's swift glance passed by the rose, 
With twilight dews impearled, 

And it said, '* Thy face is sweeter far. 
My Rose of all the world ! " 



Triolet. 

TN a dainty cluster set 

A Bring buds of the crimson roses, 

'Mid green leaves dewy-wet, 

In a dainty cluster set. 

Not a breath of fragrance yet 

Till each dewy bud uncloses ! 
In a dainty cluster set 

Bring buds of the crimson roses ! 



A Septenrpber Violet. 

N this quiet, sheltered place, 
Lifting up thy modest face, 
Bringing thoughts of hope and cheer, 
Bringing light where all is drear, 
Like a smile, whose mute caressing 
Is full of joy, and love, and blessing. 
Dewy tears thy petals wet. 
Lowly little violet ! 

Wherefore breathest thou of spring, 
When around thee withering 
Lie the sere and faded leaves ? 
Wherefore to a soul that grieves 
Bringest thou a thought of cheer, 
Saying "brighter hours are near." 
Thy sweet message glads me yet. 
Lowly little violet ! 



I will heed the happy token 

As if an angel's voice had spoken, 

And an angel, thou to me, 

(Whose heart was sad as heart could be) 

Doth seem, for Jiope thy presence giveth. 

By the love, whose faith still liveth, 

Ne'er will I the joy forget 

Thou hast brought, sweet violet ! 




Gopsecration {4gnQn. 

Pine Grove Cemetery, Lynn, 1850. 

^i^HESE templed groves in silence stand, 
Vr As formed by God's creative hand, 
And in their shadows soft and deep. 
The loved of many homes shall sleep. 

Here be the cares of life forgot. 
Hallowed with prayer this sacred spot, 
For where this day our feet have trod 
Souls shall awake to look on God ! 

Hearts that have ceased to throb with pain, 
And love that death unites again. 
Unchanged, the holy grave will keep, 
**He giveth His beloved sleep." 

Then give we grateful praise to Him, 
Who dwelleth 'mid the Cherubim. 
His love our treasures safe will keep, 
'' He giveth His beloved sleep ! " 



Lieigt^ H<-iJ^t, 



jH, honored be his name and fame ! 
The kindliest heart that ever beat 
Is dust beneath the greensward, trod 
So late by lingering feet. 

The last of those immortal names, 
Sole link between their age and ours. 

Oh, be the fadeless laurel theirs. 
But wreathe his name with flowers ! 

Rest, poet ; rest — the daisy blooms 
Shall brighten all the sacred mold 

Above the genial, loving heart 
That never could "grow old." 

His gracious memory shall not die, 

Though earth has claimed her own again. 

For loyal hearts ''write thee as one 
Who loved his fellow-men ! " 



pantasies. 

If it be fantasy, the light that lies 
T Like a new glory, over earth and skies, 
Still bathe, my soul, thy wings in morning gleams, 
From the bright world of dreams. 

I fold them closely to my heart, 

My dreams, sweet dreams ! 
How from my idols can I part. 
Sweeter than life, more fair than art, 

Their beauty beams. 

I stand by Time's swift flood, and see 

Its waves sweep by. 
Oh, dreams of youth ! how sad will be 
My days and years, from gladness free 

Until I die ; 

For I must bury in its waves. 

Not care and pain, 
But all of joy that life e'er gave, 
With youth's bright dreams, that from their grave 

Rise not again ! 



To Sorrow. 



^^NGEL! who came into my lonely room, 
€®^ In the dark hour, to guide me and to bless, 
Making a chastened radiance 'mid the gloom, 

And teaching me, in love and humbleness 
To read aright death's lesson, and to sing 

How hope and faith triumph 'mid suffering, 
I give thee back thy blessing, with mute tears ! 

Although I shrank in terror from thy face, 
And madly chid thee for my wasted years. 

Thou dwellest now in the heart's holiest place ; 
And dearer far, thy smileless face, serene. 
Than the remembered joy of gladness that has 
been ! 



^^His Gi?t." 



t ONLY know it is His Gift, 
•I* Whose love no doubt of mine shall wrong, 
He gave into my hand to keep 
A little, fadeless flower of song. 

If shadows, born of earthly care 

Sadden awhile its tender hue. 
It lifts a smiling face, to mark, 

'Mid gathering clouds, a break of blue. 

I thank Him for the gift, that lent 
Such gladness to my loneliest years. 

My star in sorrow's darkest night, 
My rainbow, set in mists of tears ! 



Ballad o? a Book. 

fMPATIENTLY I bore 
X The rack of cruel pain, 
Slowly the sad days wore 

From dawn to night again ; 

Alike to me the rain, 
The storm, or sunshine fair, 

Till some one whispered plain 
"The book is waiting there." 

No light on land or shore. 

Grief doth my soul enchain, 
Repeating o'er and o'er 

The well-remembered strain. 

To vex the weary brain, 
Enough of grief and care, 

I break the tangled skein — 
The book is waiting there I 



Its pages shall restore 
Castles in sunny Spain, 

Romance, with precious lore, 
Queen Bess with all her train 
Maid and love-lorn swain, 

Pageant and music rare, 
To greet them I am fain — 

The book is waiting there ! 

ENVOY. 

Friend, if I might attain, 
(Yet scarcely dare to try — ) 

A Ballad, with refrain — 
The book is waitino^ nio^/i ! 



©^^^^^J 
(^ 



A Singer Crowned. 

Jil^HROUGH all the solemn stillness of the sky, 
^4< Through all the noontide's breathless hush 

and calm, 
The tones of one sweet haunting melody, 

Come softly swelling, like a Sabbath psalm. 
The silvery cadence, floating through my brain, 

Fills the rapt spirit with a new delight ; 
Oh, voice divine ! breathe thy sweet spell again, 

And lift my being to a loftier height ! 
As falls the lark's song from the heaven's clear 

blue. 
Came thy sweet music, and we list anew. 
And bless thee, unaware ; and thirst no more 

Lonely and silent, since a draught we found 
Poured by thy hands, from the immortal shore, 

Where thou art dwelling. Singer ! robed and 
crowned ! 



Ir^vocation 



^JT^I^OM out the depths of the vast, dread un- 

A known, 

I call to thee, my own ! 

My soul hath need of thee, come thou to me ! 

Dying — and thy last kiss not on my lips ! 

Dying — the eyes I love, in death's eclipse, 

Looked not on me. 

And yet, oh, thou beloved ! yet I dare 

To call to thee. He knows, who hears my prayer, 

Al] thou hast been, all that thou art to me. 

Through life, in death I still must call to thee. 

Oh, from the unseen world, to life's dim track, 

My love shall call thee back ! 

Nay, nay, no tone of mine shall break thy rest. 
So still, so holy-calm ; on earth's kind breast 
Repose thou, mid the kindred forms that lie 
Around thee, in thy sleep, so peacefully. 



/ will be patient for our love' s dear sake. 
Perhaps, in God's sweet pity, there may break 
Some light upon my darkened life — some gleams 
Of hope and comfort ; come to me in dreams ! 
Thou art at rest, in God's kind keeping — I 
Am also His. A Father's loving eye 
O'er thee and me, is watching ceaselessly ! 




Ob, Drearily Gonnetl^ tl^e 
Autanr^n Browr>." 

H, drearily cometh the autumn brown, 
With its fading leaf and flower; 
But not for the skies, with their chilling frown, 
Or the sere leaves, falling swiftly down, 
Do our hearts thus feel its power. 

There's a sigh, as of grief, in the gray old tree 
That waves o'er the homestead lone, 

I miss the voice that was dear to me. 

There's a face beloved, that I ne'er may see, 

I am sad for the love that is gone. 

For the busy hand, and the kindly heart, 

And the tones of pleasant cheer, 
From my soul his memory ne'er will part — 
But the faint heart sinks, and the quick tears 
start — 

I miss him so sadly here ! 



How drearily cometh the Autumn brown 

To the hearts in that homestead old, 
For soon will be falling the first white snow, 
O'er the silvered hair, and the furrowed brow, 
And the heart that is still and cold. 

But pleasantly came the Autumn brown — 

The Autumn of life, to him. 
With the fruitage of good deeds he had done, 
The fight well fought, the victory won. 

And a name no stain can dim ! 





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